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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

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http://www.archive.org/details/captiveconceitsOOtaylrich 


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Captive  Conceits 


3B« 


3BeUe  (5ras  Uaplor 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


NEW  YORK 

27  WEST  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET 


LONDON 

24  BEDFORD  STREET,  STRAND 


Ube  Iknicfeerbocfecc  iprcss 
1896 


Copyright,  1896 

BY 

BELLE  GRAY  TAYLOR 


Ube  1ftnfcf;crboc??er  iprc0s,  flew  31)orft 


(•  •     •>      «     4.'k7 

C'      »       •      «t    «f  C' 

C  C      €         «> 


TO 

GRACE  AND  MAY 

A  labor  of  love,  my  daughters, 

This  little  book  hath  been, 
And  oft  when  the  troubled  waters 
Have  rough  been  rolling  in, 
I  *ve  seen  on  the  crest  a  pleasant  conceit 
And  captured  it,  ere  it  could  make  its  retreat. 
To-day  I  enchain  them  and  surrender  to  ye 
Their  keeping,  secured  by  Love's  padlock  and  key. 


Mi91911 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Poesie's  Awakening i 

Dolores 6 

Equipoise 8 

Weft ii 

CoRiNNE 13 

The  New  Woman 15 

Entremets 19 

Beckey 20 

A  Winter  Idyl 21 

A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus 24 

** For  Sweet  Charity's  Sake" 36 

Song  Personal 38 

The  Fall  of  the  Modern  Eve 40 

To  L.  A.       .         . 46 

To  C.  B.  F 47 

At  the  Banquet 48 

A  Bit  of  History 50 

A  Toast 56 

V 


vi  Contents, 


PAGE 

footlight-suggestions. 

Acrostic 57 

,— ^^ethersole's  Carmen 58 

Property  Kisses 60 

Le  Ballet     .        .        .        .        ,        .        .        .62 
The  Absconding  Cashier  .        .        .        .        .        .63 

Flotsam 65 

Gratitude 67 

*' Rattled" 69 

*' Regrets" 73 

Half  Seas  Over 75 

Football  Episode 77 

In  Potential  Mood 79 

In  Camp  at  Raquette  Lake 80 

Vacation 82 

Our  Club 83 

Quatrains 86 

To  Ruth 87 

My  Friend 89 

Love's  Strategy 91 

Slumber  Song 92 

Affinity      .        . 94 

Etretat 95 

Unsolved 96 

To  the  National  Society  of  New  England  Women  98 

A  Vision 106 

Ad  Finem 1 14 


CAPTIVE  CONCEITS 


POESIE'S  AWAKENING. 


/^UTSIDE  the  threshold  of  my  soul 
^^     I  heard  a  plaintive  wail, 
And  flinging  back  the  portal  full 
In  swept  a  mighty  gale. 


"Who  calleth  there?"  amazed  I  cried, 
**  What  means  this  mystery  ?  '* 

"  Lo,  it  is  I,''  a  voice  replied, 
"  I  Ve  come  to  dwell  with  thee.*' 

"  Where  art  thou,  strange,  uncanny  guest  ? 

Thy  presence  close  I  feel ; 
A  mystic  gleam  illumes  my  breast 

But  doth  not  thee  reveal. 


Poesie^s  Awakening, 

**  Soars  now  my  brain  to  dizzy  heights, 

My  heart  is  all  aglow, 
My  being  's  filled  with  wild  delights — 

It  ne'er  before  was  so. 


*'  O  unseen  guest,  what  is  thy  name  ? 

"Why  com'st  to  me  like  this  ? 
Not  honor,  wealth,  nor  mighty  fame 

Could  bring  to  me  such  bliss/' 


*'  Lo,  I  am  of  the  muses  nine. 
And  Poesie  I  'm  called ; 

I  came  to  thee  by  right  divine 
To  wake  from  sense  enthralled. 


**  And  as  the  years  have  swift  flown  by 
I  Ve  paused  here  times  a  score, 

But  thou  heard'st  not  my  haunting  cry 
Behind  thy  close  barred  door. 


Poesie's  Awakening, 

**  Thy  soul  is  stored  with  precious  wares 
Close  packed  and  darkly  shelved, 

Whilst  thou  among  the  noisome  tares 
In  lowly  depths  hast  delved. 


"  Unfold  thy  shutters  thick  and  tall, 
No  more  in  darkness  dwell ; 

Disclose  thy  treasures,  each  and  all- 
Believe,  thou  doest  well. 


"  Here  's  satire  keen  as  Damascus  steel, 

And  pathos,  velvety  soft. 
Now  list  while  I  thy  wealth  reveal — 

I  Ve  tried  so  long  and  oft. 

"  Here  's  malachite  in  rarest  blocks, 
The  jealous  fiend^s  own  shade  ; 

Of  courage,  adamantine  rocks 
In  strata  deep  are  laid. 


Foesie's  Awakening, 

**  Of  passion,  here  are  rubies  rare, 

And  opals,  pale,  of  grief  ; 
Love's  sapphires,  blue,  beyond  compare, 

Surpassing  all  belief. 


*'  Here  *s  onyx  black  of  deep  despair, 

And  corals  bright  of  hope  ; 
Diamonds  of  wit  are  gleaming  fair 

Adown  thy  life's  dim  slope." 

*'  O  joy  of  wealth  !     O  wondrous  guest ! 

Thou  'st  fev'rous  turned  my  brain — 
Where  erstwhile  all  was  peace  and  rest 

Wild  chaos  now  doth  reign." 


"  Nay,  fear  thee  not,  for  potent  aid 
Shall  be  at  thy  command  ; 

My  mantle  now  is  o'er  thee  laid 
And  loyal  here  I  stand. 


Poesie's  Awakening,  5 

**  Deep  in  thy  soul  poetic  chimes 

I  'm  ringing  sweet  and  clear; 
Delay  no  more,  breathe  forth  thy  rhymes 

That  others  too  may  hear. 

"  Haste !     To  the  world  thy  jewels  flash, 

Thy  golden  fancies  frame — 
Unminding  the  keen  critic's  lash 

And  seeking  naught  of  fame/' 


DOLORES. 

npHE  tide  has  ebbed  rich  freighted. 
^       All  hope,  love,  joy  are  gone  ; 
Her  heart  with  sorrow  weighted 
Hears  but  the  low  deep  monotone 
Of  grief's  sad  wavelets  ' 
Despairing  moan — 
Despairing  moan. 

The  dismal  cypress*  darkening  shade 
Spreads  o'er  her  like  a  pall, 
And  phantom  shapes  in  mists  arrayed- 
Ghosts  of  dead  hopes  beyond  recall, 
With  shadowy  wings 

Flit  over  all — 

Flit  over  all. 


Dolores,  7 

The  twilight  dews  fall  dark  and  dank, 
The  night  wind  sighs  a  dirge ; 
Noisome  vapors,  poisonous,  rank, 
From  gruesome  haunts  emerge  ; — 
Still  waits  she  there 

On  night's  grim  verge — 

On  night's  grim  verge. 

Why  lingers  the  maid  in  deepening  gloom  ? 
Why  flees  she  not  the  haunted  shore  ? 
Vain,  vain  her  flight !  for  't  is  her  doom 
To  dwell  with  shadows  evermore, 
And  in  her  soul 

Pale  phantoms  soar — 

Pale  phantoms  soar. 


EQUIPOISE. 

"^  71  riSDOM  and  Folly  went  out  one  day 

^  ^       In  a  pleasure  yacht  to  sail  on  the  bay : 
Folly  hoisted  the  sail  to  its  fullest  extent — 
Wisdom  reefed  in,  on  safety  intent. 

Where  e'er  you  sail, 
To  keep  afloat 
Take  Wisdom  with  Folly 
To  balance  the  boat. 

Hope  and  Despair  walked  forth  at  eve : 
Despair   sank   exhausted,    Hope    touched   her 

sleeve, 
**  Come,  farther  advance,  I  see  for  the  morrow 
A  sky  blue  and  bright,  with  no  cloud  of  sorrow.*' 


Equipoise.  9 

Despair  raised  her  head 
From  the  cold,  damp  ground, 
And  her  weight  held  young  Hope 
Within  Reason's  fair  bound. 

Joy  and  Sorrow  sat  side  by  side  : 

Sorrow's  wet  lids  by  Joy  were  dried  ; 

Joy  laughed  out  in  careless  glee, 

Sorrow  gently  chid,  *'  Give  a  thought  to  me." 

A  smile  for  a  tear — 
Though  justice  sleeps, 
A  joy  for  a  fear 
The  balance  keeps. 

Poverty  and  Wealth,  though  seeming  no  friends, 
Each  to  the  other  pays  dividends ; 
This  thing  is  true,  just  give  it  a  thought, 
Nothing  is  sold  but  something  is  bought, 
And  nothing  is  lost  but  something  is  won. 
While  good  and  evil  parallel  run. 


lo  Equipoise, 


Let  pessimists  groan 
And  talk  as  they  will, 
This  planet  of  ours 
Is  well  balanced  still. 


WEFT. 

rj'LYINGinandout, 
^        The  shuttle  ran  rife 
Through  the  spotless  warp 
Of  a  maiden's  life. 


Glancing  back  and  forth, 

A  shimmer  of  light 
Was  quick  woven  in, 

Of  her  heart's  true  knight. 

Flitting  fast  and  free, 
A  dim  shadow  ran — 

A  faint  doubt  of  him, 
That  falsely  began. 


12  Weft. 


Darting  fierce  and  wild, 
With  rattle  and  din, 

A  jealous  tangle 
Was  woven  of  him. 


Softly  and  slow 
The  shuttle  ran — 

Love  was  regaining 
Her  lost  faith  in  man. 

Silent  and  still, 
The  loom  at  rest — 

The  web  is  woven, 

Her  heart  in  his  breast. 


A' 


CORINNE. 

H,  gentle  Corinne! 
With  thy  violin 
Thou  fashionest  music  so  sweet, 
I  could  lie  all  day 
And  dream  life  away 
On  the  turf  at  thy  dainty  feet. 

'Neath  evergreen  shade, 

In  the  sylvan  glade, 
I  close  to  the  infinite  pause, 

As  thy  magic  bow. 

So  weird  and  low, 
Its  music  strange,  mystical,  draws. 
13 


14  Corinne, 

Thou  *rt'  shy  as  a  bird, 
Yet  thy  notes  are  heard 

In  the  halls  of  fashion  and  light, 
And  thy  subtle  spell 
Thou  weavest  as  well 

As  beneath  the  dark  dome  of  night. 

For  thy  soul,  agleam 
With  its  mighty  theme. 

Thy  terrors  doth  vanish  like  mist ; 
And  with  rapturous  glow 
Thou  handiest  thy  bow. 

By  the  spirit  of  music  kissed. 

Corinne,  ah  Corinne ! 

With  thy  violin 
Thou  drawest  all  hearts  to  thee ; 

My  homage  I  bring — 

This  song  would  I  sing, 
But  music  ne'er  dwelleth  with  me. 


THE  NEW  WOMAN. 

nniME  was  when  man  monopolized 
^       The  best  of  all  a-going, 
But  now  you  need  not  be  surprised 
If  woman  does  some  crowing. 

For  what  she  's  done  this  last  decade 
Is  quite  a  ten  years*  wonder, 

And  the  genus  Homo  stands  dismayed 
Though  she  *s  stolen  not  his  thunder. 

Perchance  she  might,  but  she  well  knew 
That  she  could  do  much  better — 

I  '11  prove  this  true  ere  I  am  through 
That  he  is  much  her  debtor. 
15 


1 6  The  New  Woman, 


She  *s  cleared  away  the  underbrush 

Of  primeval  tradition, 
And  now  the  modern  man  doth  rush 

To  hear  her  erudition. 


For  college  doors  are  yawning  wide, 
And  dons  bid  her  to  enter 

Where  once  man,  mighty  in  his  pride, 
Alone  was  head  and  centre. 


The  lore  of  Galen,  all  is  hers, 
Blackstone  is  but  a  primer, 

And  yet  it  is  a  truth,  kind  sirs, 
She  cooks  a  first-rate  dinner. 


She  poses  on  the  platform  high, 
A  true  Delsartean  model ; 

No  curtain  lectures  deigns  to  try 
As  did  poor  sister  Caudle. 


The  New  Wo?nan.  17 


She  wields  the  brush  with  dextrous  skill ; 

Her  pen  flies  o'er  the  paper 
And  glowing  thoughts  the  pages  fill 

While  lowly  burns  the  taper — 


For  he  's  asleep,  the  dear  good  soul, 
Dreaming  of  stocks  and  mortgage, 

And  wondering  where  he  *11  find  a  hole 
To  creep  through  on  the  shortage. 


But  waking  with  the  morning  light. 
He  finds  that  all  his  worry 

In  her  black  scratches  of  the  night, 
She  *s  settled  in  a  hurry. 


Finance  for  her  no  secrets  has. 
She  dotes  on  exploitations. 

And  dabbles  in  such  trifles  as 
The  destinies  of  nations. 


1 8  The  New  Woman. 


In  journalism  she  *s  abreast 

With  man  in  all  its  stages, 
And  on  her  laurels  well  may  rest ; 

A  queen  among  her  pages. 

She  hath  her  well-appointed  club, 
Her  luncheons  and  her  dinners ; 

No  sect  nor  creed  she  now  doth  snub, 
But  feasts  with  saints  and  sinners. 

In  truth,  from  bondage  woman  's  free — 
Still  one  thing  more  she  claims,  sirs  ; 

Her  right  to  vote — and  you  must  see 
*T  will  be  our  nation*s  gain,  sirs  ! 


ENTREMETS. 

A  LL  things  in  life  are  relative  ; 
-'*'     Weakness  to  strength  aid  oft  doth  give ; 
Strength,  to  forced  conditions  must  comply  ; — 
Weakness,  untrammelled,  may  to  her  succor  fly. 

Dress  surely  does  a  difference  make ; 
When  you  have  grave  affairs  at  stake, 
A  well  cut  coat,  a  stylish  hat. 
Essential  are,  remember  that. 

Believe  all  things  will  right  themselves. 
In  course  of  evolution  ;• 
We  Ve  climbing  higher,  stage  by  stage, — 
Attempt  no  revolution. 

The  poet  is  a  man  of  moods. 
To-day  he  sings,  to-morrow  broods  ; 
To-day  is  bland,  to-morrow  raves, 
Unrestful  as  old  Neptune's  waves. 


19 


BECKEY. 


QHE  'S  just  a  little  thoroughbred, 
^^     From  tip  of  toe  to  crown  of  head  ; 
And  be  it  fair,  or  be  it  storm, 
She  's  always  in  the  best  of  form. 


Her  lips  are  fresh  as  morning  dew, 

Her  eyes  are  of  cerulean  blue  ; 

Her  hair  is  brown,  touched  light  with  gold, 

And  fashioned  close  in  classic  fold. 

Her  laugh  is  like  the  mountain  rill, 
Spontaneous,  bubbling  from  the  hill ; 
Her  tears — alas,  that  she  should  weep — 
Are  like  the  spray  on  ocean's  deep, 

Her  soul  is  white  as  falling  snow, 
Her  heart  is  red  with  love's  own  glow ; 
And  in  life's  heat,  or  in  its  cold. 
Our  Beckey  's  worth  her  weight  in  gold. 


A  WINTER  IDYL, 

TO   BABY  COZZENS. 

QWIFT  falls  the  snow, 
^^     The  wild  winds  blow 

Around  the  "  Monterey  '* ; 
And  shadows  deep 
In  corners  creep, 

This  bleak  and  wintry  day. 

The  shades  of  lawn 
Are  upward  drawn, 

Within  the  ''  Monterey '' ; 
And  gusty  clouds 
Like  demon  crowds 

Peep  in,  then  speed  away. 

21 


22  A   Winter  IdyL 


Now,  smiling  bright, 
A  winsome  mite, — 

Pride  of  the  ''  Monterey  *' 
Comes  in  to  cheer 
With  presence  dear 

The  gloom  so  dense  and  gray. 


Fair,  sweet,  and  fresh 
Her  dainty  flesh, — 

Babe  of  the  "  Monterey,*' 
Right  from  her  bath 
Her  good  bonne  hath 

Brought  her  so  blithe  and  gay. 


And  now  upon 

Her  couch  of  down — 

Safe  in  the  "  Monterey  ''— 
She  crows  to  see 
A  sunbeam  free 

Burst  from  the  clouds  astray. 


A  Winter  Idyl,  23 


It  flickered  o*er 
The  polished  floor, 

Within  the  ''  Monterey  ;  '* 
Then  quick  arose, 
Kissed  her  pink  toes, 

And  trembling  fled  away. 

One  glance  she  gave, — 
Reproachful,  grave, 

There  in  the  **  Monterey  ; ' 
Which  said,  "  Mamma, 
And  you,  papa, 

Have  cozzened  it  away/* 


A  LIVELY  DAY  ON  OLYMPUS. 

i^^NE  morn  in  eighteen  ninety-nine 

^^     Great  Jove  awoke  from  his  sleep  divine. 

With  an  ominous  shake  of  his  mighty  beard 

He  seemed  a  god  to  be  well  feared. 

With  royal  mien  and  kingly  pride 

He  gazed  o*er  his  dominions  wide, 

And,  glancing  down  the  cerulean  blue. 

He  thought  he  saw  there  something  new. 

Quick  called  he  Juno  to  his  side ; 

She  came,  majestic  and  keen-eyed. 

**  Look  quickly  down  below,**  said  he, 
"And  tell  me  if  aught  strange  you  see  !  " 

Her  swift  glance  cleft  the  ether  space, 

A  puzzled  look  came  o*er  her  face  ; 

24 


A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus,  25 


And  turning  quick  to  Jove,  she  spoke, 
**  I  think,  my  dear,  it  looks  like  smoke." 

*^  Now,  how  came  smoke  in  Olympian  air, 
Except  by  my  cigar  puffed  there  ? 
What  caitiff  dare  my  realm  invade  ? 
I  '11  soon  reduce  him  to  a  shade  !  " 

They  silent  stood,  in  watchful  ire. 
And  still  the  smoke  kept  floating  higher. 
At  length  with  clash,  and  clang,  and  jar, 
A  locomotive  drew  up  with  a  Pullman  car. 

(Quoth  Jove:) 

"  What  infernal  thing  is  that  ?  '' 
As  a  man  in  tweed  and  soft  felt  hat 
Sprang  out  before  the  train  had  stopped, 
And  right  at  Juno's  feet  he  dropped. 

**  Who  be  ye,  presumptuous  stranger, — 
Know  you  not  your  head  's  in  danger  ? 


26  A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus, 


And  what  is  that?  and  who  are  they 
That  dare  in  Jove's  high  realm  to  stray?*' 

"  O,  that 's  a  special  from  New  York, 
With  Dr.  Depew  and  some  of  his  sort ; 
And  a  poor  inventor,  making  a  trip 
To  try  his  new  patent  railway  grip. — 
But,  here  *s  a  card  with  my  address ; 
I  *m  a  reporter  for  the  United  Press. 

"  Gods  and  men  are  the  same  to  me, — 
In  our  pursuit  they  needs  must  be, 
And  nothing  goes  unless  I  swear 
That  everything  is  on  the  square." 

At  these  words  Juno  smiled,  quite  pleased, 
And  Jove's  deep  wrath  was  quick  appeased. 
(Said  He :) 

"  You  're  the  man  I  'm  glad  to  know, 
For  you  can  give  me  the  news  from  below." 


A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus,  27 


"  O,  yes,  indeed,  but  there 's  much  to  tell, — 
And  I  think  I  hear  the  dinner-bell/* 
(Says  Juno  :) 

"  I  quite  understand  your  suggestion, 
And  I  trust  our  fare  will  suit  your  digestion. 
1 11  be  your  hostess  and  Jove  your  protector — • 
We'll  feed   you   ambrosia  and  toast  you   on 
nectar/' 

**  That 's  right ;  Juno  and  I  in  this  agree, — 
While  you  're  in  town  we  '11  board  you  free." 

**  Thanks,  then,  I  '11  at  once  begin  my  tale — 
Your  nectar  might  make  my  memory  fail. 

"  We  tread  our  equator  and  converse  at  ease 

With  friends  in  the  far  antipodes. 

We  ride  on  the  water,  float  in  air. 

And  reach  our  attics  without  climbing  a  stair. 

We  solid  ice  in  midsummer  freeze, 

And  make  fine  combs  for  honey-bees. 


28  A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus, 


— By  the  way,  if  you  '11  the  contract  let  us, 
We  'd  like  to  make  some  for  Hymettus. — 
But,  I  digress.     My  friends,  you  see 
Our  commercial  instincts  shadow  me. 
I  '11  hasten  now  my  simple  tale — 
Things  down  below  so  soon  grow  stale. 

"  Our  electric  light  puts  out  the  moon. 
And  makes  the  midnight  like  the  noon, — " 
(Quoth  Jove :) 

"You  daring  mortals  arouse  my  wonder; 
You  Ve  got  our  lightning  and  will  soon  steal 
our  thunder." 


"  O,  never,  Jove, — we  make  our  own  ; 
To  hear  it  on  the  stage  you  'd  groan. 
But  the  half  my  tale  is  not  yet  told  ; 
And,  pray  don't  think  me  over  bold, 
But  we  've  brave  heroes  from  the  wars 
Who  'd  soon  put  hors  de  combat  Mars ; 


A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus,  29 


Barmaids  fair  as  the  queen  of  Sheba, 

Who  far  outshine  your  little  Hebe, 

And  nymphs  of  the  dance,  so  agile  and  light 

They  *d  beat  Terpsichore  out  of  sight. 

And  we  an  Adonis  have  down  there, 

With  whom  Apollo  can't  compare. 

And  lordly  youths,  so  tall  and  fleet 

That  Mercury's  laurels  would  fade  at  their  feet.** 

(Roared  Jove :) 

"  Cease  your  comparisons  odious. 
Or  I  *11  give  you  quarters  less  commodious  ! 
You  prove  your  boasts,  or,  ere  you  lunch, 
I  *11  treat  you  to  a  hemlock  punch  ! 
Fleet-winged  Hermes  shall  go  down. 
And  warn  your  creatures  of  renown 
Tis  mighty  Jove*s  imperial  will 
They  hither  come  to  try  their  skill.** 

"  O,  send  not  Hermes, — he  *s  far  too  slow 
To  run  on  errands  down  below. 


^o  A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus, 


1 11  summon  them  through  the  telephone, 
And  swift  your  message  will  make  known. 
Watch  well,  and  you  '11  espy  them  soon 
Sailing  up  in  a  big  balloon.'* 

They  waited  on  the  giddy  height 
To  watch  their  guests*  quick  upward  flight. 
Full  soon  they  came  with  laughter  and  jest, 
For  their  noble  ship  had  sailed  its  best. 
Then  Jove  assembled  all  his  court. 
(Said  He : ) 

"  Of  these  pigmies  we  *11  make  fine  sport !  *' 

He  seated  him  in  kingly  pride, 
The  stately  Juno  by  his  side ; 
And  close  around  his  courtiers  sate, 
The  novel  contests  to  await. 

"  On  with  the  dance,*'  was  his  command, 
And  at  his  bidding  appeared  a  band 


A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus.  31 


Most  wondrous  bright,  and  dazzling  fair ; 
All  seemingly  to  tread  on  air. 
The  dance  went  on  with  subtle  grace, — 
Intense  excitement  filled  the  place. 
Wise  men,  grown  bald  in  pious  age, 
Sat  raptured  close  unto  the  stage ; 
While  adolescents,  with  foot-ball  mats, 
Filled  the  air  with  tossing  hats. 

Then  sudden  came  an  ominous  pause — 
Followed  quick  by  a  burst  of  applause, 
Brava !  brava  !  Loierisqu^ ;  Encore !  Encore  1 
(Roared  Jove :) 

*'  Enough !  Enough !  No  more — no  more ! 
If  defeated  is  our  Terpsichore, 
I  swear  *t  was  done  by  trickery. 
Next  comes  Beauty  on  the  list, — 
And  on  stern  justice  I  now  insist.'* 

And  Beauty  came, — such  beauty  I  ween, 
As  n^ver  before  united  was  seen. 


32  A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus, 


It  took  but  a  moment  the  palm  to  award, 
For  each  and  all  were  of  accord. 
Fair  Venus  turned  in  anger  away, — 
A  professional  beauty  had  won  the  day. 


(Cried  Jove :) 

Venus  darling,  don't  you  fret, — 
You  *11  get  the  best  of  Lily  yet, 
Time  will  play  her  ugly  pranks, 
While  you  '11  keep  fresh  from  your  salty  tanks. 
Don't  crawl  back  to  your  old  half-shell — 
This  thing  is  but  a  monstrous  sell." 


Then — 

To  his  factotum,  white  with  fear, 
With  shout  stentorian  and  clear ; 


'*  Bring  forth  the  vaunted  young  athlete 
With  wing-heeled  Hermes  to  compete !  " 


A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus,  33 


Silent  and  swift  progressed  the  race, — 
A  sombre  spell  hung  o'er  the  place. 
Each  sporty  maid  a  flyer  took, 
And  wrote  her  favorite  in  her  book. 
With  sullen  face  and  brow  grown  black 
Soon  Hermes  went  limping  ojff  the  track, 
While,  with  swinging  step  and  easy  grace, 
The  New  York  athlete  won  the  race. 

Great  Jove  sank  back  upon  his  throne, 
And  from  his  lips  escaped  a  groan. 

"  I  give  to  you  one  trial  more — 
That  shall  decide  what 's  gone  before. 
I  challenge  your  heroes  from  the  wars 
To  mortal  combat  with  great  Mars.'* 

Mars  first  appeared,  in  strength  and  might, 

In  Vulcan's  armor  burnished  bright ; — 

Then,  came  a  man  in  blue  and  gold. 

With  a  rifle,  and  bullets  fresh  from  the  mould. 
3 


34  -^  Lively  Day  on  Olympus. 


Quick  flashed  in  air  Mars'  glittering  blade, — 

The  man  in  blue  stood  undismayed. 

A  flash  of  fire — a  puff  of  smoke, — 

A  bullet  through  Mars'  strong  shield  broke, 

And  entering  his  mighty  breast — 

The  gods'  great  warrior  was  at  rest. 

The  stately  Juno  tore  her  hair — 
Jove  roared  aloud  in  wild  despair. 
But,  when  his  rage  was  somewhat  spent. 
He  for  our  good  reporter  sent. 


(Said  He  :) 

*^  Young  man,  you  Ve  won  this  day, 
But  your  own  defeat  is  on  its  way, — 
Not  to  you,  nor  your  worldings,  the  palm  I  yield. 
But  to  Progress,  which  shatters  the  strongest 

shield. 
We  've  been  asleep  for  countless  ages. 
While  you  have  advanced  by  rapid  stages ; 


A  Lively  Day  on  Olympus.  35 


But  the  wheel  of  Progress  will  crush  you  soon, 
So  hasten  back  to  your  balloon/* 

"  I  thank  you,  Jove,  for  your  kindly  moral, — 
In  return,  accept  a  dose  of  chloral. 
It  will  send  you  back  to  your  blessed  sleep, 
And  the  scenes  of  this  day  from  your  memory 

keep/' 
Jove  took  the  potion  in  his  grasp. 
And,  leaning  back,  said  with  a  gasp : 

*'  Young  man,  young  man,  I  pray  you  go ; 
I  wish  no  more  of  your  world  to  know/* 

Then  the  crafty  reporter  came  back  to  town, 
And  sat  up  till  midnight  to  write  this  all  down. 


"FOR  SWEET  CHARITY'S  SAKE." 

(  Written  for  a  Hospital  Fair.) 

"/"^AST  thy  bread  upon  the  waters," 
^-^     And  it  shall  return  to  thee  cake, 

O  ye  parents,  sons  and  daughters, 
With  never  a  pain  nor  an  ache. 

Hie  to  the  Fair  with  thy  ducats. 
And  spend  them  with  jolly  good  will, — 

Where  e  'er  you  lower  your  buckets 

You  're  sure  to  be  pleased  with  their  fill. 

Ah,  the  soft  hands  that  will  serve  you 
And  return  all  change  that  is  due ; 

Pray,  don't  let  prices  unnerve  you — 

They  Ve  **  fair," — Be  assured  this  is  true, 
36 


^^For  Sweet  Charity's  Sake.**  37 


When  thou  return'st  to  thy  dwelling, 

Be  it  mansion,  palace  or  flat. 
It  surely  goes  without  telling 

Thou  'It  be  all  the  happier  that 

Some  head  may  rest  on  a  pillow 

That  else  might  have  lain  on  a  stone, 

Some  life  be  caught  on  the  billow. 
Tossing  out  to  the  great  unknown. 

Go  tell  thy  friends  and  thy  neighbors 
How  water-soaked  bread  evolves  cake — 

How  vast  the  gain  of  thy  labors 
When  spent  for  "  Sweet  Charity *s  Sake  !  " 


SONG  PERSONAL. 
To  E.  G. 

(With  apologies  to  Auld Lang  Syne.) 

OHOULD  ancient  muses  be  forgot, 
^^     Unheard  their  classic  rhymes, 
Because,  alas,  it  is  our  lot 
To  dwell  in  modern  times? 
Should  Eschylus  and  Sophocles, 
Euripides  as  well, 
Ignored  be,  when  at  our  ease 
We  may  hear  them  read  so  well  ? 

Then  here  's  to  these  great  poets  three. 

Who  now  in  Hades  dwell 
And  thanks  to  kindly  Fate's  decree 

That  gives  us  Lionel !  "^ 

*  Dramatic  Reader. 

38 


Song  Personal.  39 


There  dwelleth  now  in  Gotham's  heart 

A  matron,  wise  as  kind ; 

She  mingleth  food  with  subtle  art 

For  body  and  for  mind. 

To  classic  drama  and  to  lunch 

She  biddeth  us  to  come, 

And  digests  with  a  bowl  of  punch 

Her  mental  pabulum. 

Then  here 's  to  her,  our  hostess  kind, 

A  woman  up  to  date. 
Who  never  leaves  her  friends  behind, 

What  e*er  may  be  their  fate. 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  MODERN  EVE. 

TT  was  that  same  forbidden  fruit 
''•     Which  caused  poor  Eve's  sad  fall, — 
But  she  was  spinning  on  her  wheel, 
And  *t  was  a  closer  call. 

No  gallant  Adam  by  her  side. 

Her  accident  to  share  ; 
And  on  her  shoulders  lay  the  blame 

That  he  himself  might  spare. 

For  she  a  woman  was,  quite  new, — 

That  sure  was  just  like  Eve  ; 

But  then  she  dressed  in  finer  style 

And  wore  a  bigger  sleeve. 
40 


The  Fall  of  the  Modern  Eve.  41 


It  happened  thus,  one  bracing  morn 
When  autumn's  fruit  hung  red, 

She  mounted  her  new  shining  wheel 
And  o'er  the  country  sped. 


The  wind  among  the  branches  played, 

And  carpeted  the  ground 
With  gorgeous  leaves,  and  oft-times  too 

An  apple  there  was  found. 


But  out  of  sight,  so  slyly  hid, 

No  woman  fast  or  slow — 
Upon  her  wheel ! — could  e'er  suspect 

The  danger  lurking  low. 


O  treacherous  fruit,  the  cause  of  all 

A  woman's  wicked  woe, — 
How  dear,  how  dire  to  her  thou  *st  been, 

None  but  her  sex  can  know ! 


42  The  Fall  of  the  Modern  Eve. 


Onward  she  rolled,  this  woman  new, 
Triumphant,  brave,  and  free, — 

Her  wheel  the  hidden  apple  found  ;  - 
Then  came  catastrophe ! 


Naught  but  a  pile  of  debris,  seemed 
This  wreck  so  subtly  made 

Of  woman  fair  and  high-grade  wheel, 
That  in  the  dust  was  laid. 


Silent  and  still,  so  stunned  was  she, 

A  moment  lay  she  there ; 
Then  came  tumultuous  sobs  and  tears- 

*T  was  n't  feminine  to  swear. 


All  bruised  and  battered  was  her  wheel, 

Her  clothes  to  tatters  torn  ; 
As  drearily  she  scrambled  up. 

Of  her  high  courage  shorn. 


The  Fall  of  the  Modern  Eve,  43 


For  miles  and  miles  from  home  was  she ; 

Naught  living  was  in  sight, — 
Save  two  red  cows  with  glittering  horns 

That  put  her  in  a  fright. 


**  I  almost  wish  I  had  n  *t  come 
Out  here  so  far  alone — 

It  was  n't  safe,  he  told  me  so ; 
Oh,  dear,  if  I  had  known." 


Her  tear-stained  face  she  buried  close 
Within  her  hands  begrimed, — 

Nor  wist  that  he  who  ''  told  '*  her  so 
Was  scorching  up  behind. 


The  situation  at  a  glance 
His  practiced  eye  took  in  ; 

"  By  all  the  gods,  now  *s  just  the  time 
To  take  my  chance  and  win  ! 


44  The  Fall  of  the  Modern  Eve. 


"She  snubbed  me  right  and  left  last  night, 

When  I  to  win  her  sought ; 
So  self-sufficing  she  appeared 

I  felt  my  suit  was  naught/' 


He  flung  him  from  his  noiseless  steed, 

By  a  true  instinct  led, 
And  clasped  her  to  his  throbbing  heart 

Ere  she  could  raise  her  head. 


A  nervous  little  shriek  she  gave — 

Which  closed  in  glad  surprise. 
And  through  the  dimmish  tears  there  shone 

A  love  light  in  her  eyes. 


Then  he  with  ardor  kissed  her  thrice, 

Unheeding  tears  or  grime  ; 
And  blessed  the  "  bike  *'  that  brought  him  there 

Just  in  the  nick  of  time. 


The  Fall  of  the  Modern  Eve,  45 


With  well  stocked  **  kit  "  and  dextrous  hand 

He  spliced  the  broken  wheel, 
And  side  by  side  they  rolled  away 

Together,  for  woe  or  weal. 


L  Envoi. 

The  whispering  breeze  laughed  low, 
And  the  leaves  in  mirth  tossed  high, 

The  apples  danced  on  the  topmost  bough 
Beneath  a  smiling  sky ; 


Then  in  mocking  chorus  came  the  shout : 
'' '  What  fools  these  mortals  be !  '— 

Why  must  they  all  eat  of  the  fruit 
Of  the  forbidden  tree?" 


TOL.A. 


TO  C.  R  F. 

(On  tki  rtmpt  ^f  tkt  ^ft  cf^  sterUn^  mtwr pm-hMer^) 

rNEAR  Clinton,  wc  have  often  heud 

■*^     **  The  pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword,** 

Rut,  list!  V\\  whisper  what  I  think: 

'  r  IS  not  thft  sword,  the  pen  nor  ink ; 

Convinced  am  I,  Jis  I  grow  oUkr, 

The  *•  might  '*  is  in  the  *^  ^tertiiic  holder,"" 


VI 


AT  THE   BANQUET. 

T^HE  world  is  round,  wise  men  declare, 
'■'       And  like  a  ball  hangs  in  the  air ; 
But  it  will  have  an  end,  they  say, 
When  certain  forces  come  in  play ; 
And  shall  within  its  starry  height 
Explode  like  bomb  of  dynamite. 

And  thus  the  round  of  pleasure  may 
Come  to  an  end,  'most  any  day ; 
So,  be  thou  wise,  and  ever  try 
To  catch  this  charmer  '*  on  the  fly/* 
Nor  wait  for  her  to  settle  quite, — 
Be  it  broad  day  or  densest  night. 

But,  fleet  and  fragile  are  her  wings — 

Grasp  her  not  rudely,  lest  she  stings ; 
48 


At  the  Banquet.  49 


Pursue  her  not  beyond  the  bound 
Of  right's  and  reason's  solid  ground, 
Else  she  may  lead  you  fast  and  far 
Beyond  your  happy  natal  star. 

But  this  is  her  demesne  to-night, 
And  here  she  pauses  in  her  flight. 
She  soars  and  circles  o'er  each  guest. 
Then,  diving  down,  sinks  low  to  rest 
Within  the  crystal  goblet's  brim. 
And  temptingly  smiles  up  at  him. 

Then  let  us  have  her  out,  I  say, — 

No  more  at  hide  and  seek  we  '11  play. 

But  drink  her  down  and  make  her  ours 

Beyond  recall  by  all  the  powers. 

So  here  's  to  Pleasure !  gay  and  bright, 

A  willing  captive  here  to-night. 
4 


A  BIT  OF  HISTORY. 

^  1  riLD  throbbed  the  hearts  of  the  "  22nd;* 

'  ^       Twenty-five  years  ago  to-night, 
As  they  bravely  marched  where  duty  beckoned, 
To  secure  the  Union's  imperiled  might. 
And  as  they  marched  adown  Broadway, 
Those  noble  men  in  modest  gray, 
The  welkin  rang  with  loud  acclaim 
Of  man,  and  lad,  and  lass,  and  dame. 
But  the  mightiest  cheers  on  the  night  air  wafted 
Were  the  plaudits  of  those  who  could  n't  be 

drafted. 
The  blind,  the  halt,  the  lame, 
Grew  blinder,  lamer,  halter ; 
But  still,  as  news  of  battle  came. 
Their    courage    stood    firm    as    the    Rock    of 

Gibraltar. 

50 


A  Bit  of  History,  5 1 


Our  gallant  band  marched  on  its  way 

And  took  the  train  without  delay. 

They  landed  safe  in  Baltimore, 

And  there  remained  two  weeks  and  o'er. 

How  well  they  bore  their  hardships  there 

The  country  knows,  so  I  *11  forbear, 

But  simply  note  their  great  distress 

When  anything  went  wrong  at  mess. 

They  blacked  their  boots,  they  brushed  their 

clothes. 
And  in  their  buttonholes  wore  a  rose. 


Now,  time  was  big  with  great  events, 
And  forced  were  they  to  strike  their  tents. 
Again  away  by  rail  they  went, 
For  Uncle  Sam  had  kindly  sent 
Those  brave  defenders  of  the  nation 
A  train  of  cars  for  their  transportation. 
Safe  arrived  at  Harper's  Ferry, 
With  quinine  and  whiskey — 't  was  well  to  be 
wary, — 


52  A  Bit  of  History, 


Footsore  and  weary  from  riding  in  cars, 

They  sat  them  down  and  smoked  their  cigars. 

Their  hearts  with  warHke  ardor  filled, 

They  really  felt  a  little  chilled 

To  find  no  rebels  there 

Who  needed  their  especial  care. 

But  stoics  were  they  in  that  ancient  day. 

So  they  lay  down  to  rest  on  blankets  the  best 

And  all   dangers  scorning,   slept   soundly   till 


Camp-life  at  Harper's  Ferry,  Boys ! 
Who  does  not  regret  it? 
Who  can  e  *er  forget  it  ? 

Of  active  service  we  had  not  much, 
But  our  discipline  was  such 
That,  could  we  have  proved  our  mettle. 
As  sure  as  fate  we  'd  have  won  the  battle. 

Once,  as  dawn*s  rosy  fingers 
Drew  the  curtains  of  night, 


A  Bit  of  History,  53 


The  long  roll  resounded — 
That  surely  meant  fight ! 
Awaked  from  our  dreams 
From  our  blankets  we  bounded, 
But  only  to  find  the  danger 
Unfounded. 

Weeks  rolled  by, — no  enemy  came, 
But  we  served  our  country  all  the  same. 
These  sacred  words  resigned  us  to  our  fate : 
"  They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait/' 

Though   battle   came   not   with   its   blood-red 

hand. 
Still  death  crept  into  our  gallant  band 
And  took  from  us  our  brave  commander, 
A  man  of  wisdom,  truth,  and  candor. 

"  The  king  is  dead  !    Long  live  the  king !  ** 
Are  words  that  must  together  ring. 
We  dropped  a  tear  on  Monroe's  bier, 


54  ^  Bii  of  History. 


Our  offerings  laid  upon  his  pall, 
Then,  turned  to  greet  our  Aspinwall. 
He  too  has  passed  to  the  great  beyond, 
Severing  still  another  bond. 
With  God*s  jewels,  the  flowers, 
We  shall  soon  deck  their  graves, 
While  we  bless  the  great  powers 
Our  Union  still  saves. 

Though  bloodless  was  our  first  campaign, 
The  *'  22nd  "  went  forth  again 
And  some  among  us  fought  and  fell 
Amid  the  shower  of  shot  and  shell. 

But  we  come  not  here  to-night 

Our  country's  battles  again  to  fight ; 

But  come  we  in  peace  and  come  we  in  love 

With  a  tear  for   our  comrades  in   the  grand 

army  above, 
And  a  word  and  a  cheer 
For  those  who  are  here. 


A  Bit  of  History.  55 


All  hail !  to  you,  veteran  brothers, 

To  you,  colonels,  commanders,  and  others, 

And  hail !  all  hail !  to  the  memory  of  dear  old 

Abe 
Who  said  he  reckoned  '*  the  Union  would  have 
Gone  to  pieces  without  the  '  22nd/  '* 

To-night  we  are  a  quarter  of  a  century  older, 
But  never  have  our  hearts  felt  bolder; 
So  let  us  seem  as  young  and  merry 
As  we  were  in  camp  at  Harper*s  Ferry, 
While  we  our  flowing  bumpers  drain 
In  memory  of  our  first  campaign. 


Note. — The  foregoing  lines  were  delivered  at  a  banquet 
given  by  the  veterans  of  the  Twenty-second  Regiment,  N.  G., 
N.  Y.,  to  commemorate  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of  their 
first  campaign  in  our  late  civil  war. 


A  TOAST. 


T  TERE  's  to  the  sparkling  spray, — 
-*-  ^     To  the  lightsome  foam  so  fleet ! 
— T  is  the  cruel  hidden  undertow 
That  drags  us  off  our  feet. 


So  here  's  to  mirth  and  laughter — 
Whatever  beneath  them  hide ! 

— Sail  we  above  the  breakers  high, 
But    ware  the  ebbing  tide. 

And  here  *s  to  fun  and  folly ! 

If  life  be  but  a  span 
No  time  have  we  for  melancholy, — 

Be  joyous  while  we  can ! 


56 


ACROSTIC. 

TOY-BELLS, ring  ye  a  glad  acclaim, — 
^      Unto  high  Heaven  resound  her  fame ! 
Linger  and  list — she  cometh — our  queen, 
In  jewels  and  laces  and  satin's  sheen, 
Entwining  young  Romeo's  heart  with  her  own, 
Trilling  her  song  with  her  angel's  tone. 
Thou  glorious  Melba  !     Thou  Juliette  fair! 
Encore  !  Encore  !  or  I  die  with  despair. 


57 


NETHERSOLE'S  CARMEN. 

A    DEMON  of  beauty  in  scarlet  and  gold, 
^^^     A  seductive,  gay  coquette  ; 
With  her  supple  grace  and  glances  bold, 
Smoking  a  cigarette, — 

That  's  Carmen. 

A  colorless  maid  in  faded  blue, 

Pure  as  an  angel's  dream  ; 
A  saintly  calm,  a  love  as  true 

And — cool,  as  a  mountain  stream. 
Dolores. 

A  soldier  brave  to  face  the  foe, — 

Unused  to  woman's  wiles ; 
A  glance — a  touch — an  acacia's  blow 

Disturbs,  distracts,  beguiles. 

Don  Jos6. 
58 


N ether  sole' s  Carmen.  eg 


His  sergeant*s  stripes  for  Carmen  lost, 
And  struck  from  honor's  roll, — 

Still,  all  *s  not  gone,  though  dear  the  cost — 
He  saved  his  Nether — sole. 

That  *s  nature. 


PROPERTY  KISSES. 


OHE  kisses  him  sweet,  and  she  kisses  him 

"^        long, 

In  the  glare  of  the  Hghts,  in  the  face  of  the 

throng, 
And  never  a  chance  of  one  he  misses — 
He  must  not,  indeed,  for  they  're  property  kisses. 


It  *s  all  in  the  way  of  business,  you  know, 

And  adds  so  much  to  the  spice  of  the  show ; 

And,  rains  it  applause,  or  seethes  it  with  hisses. 

He  faithfully  garners  his  property  kisses. 

60 


Property  Kisses.  6i 


The  lights  are  turned  down, — the  play  is  all 

over, — 
The  curtain  conceals  a  maid  and  her  lover ; 
And  he  swears  by  his  soul  he  knows  what  true 

bliss  is, 
As  he  pays  back  with  interest  her  property 

kisses. 


LE  BALLET. 

T^HE  fair  Terpsichore  veils  her  face, 
^       O,  list  unto  her  wailing ; 
She  cannot  keep  up  to  the  pace 
With  ''  Fuller  "  skirts  prevailing. 


62 


THE  ABSCONDING  CASHIER. 

After  '*  The  Bridge  of  Sighs." 

/^NE  more  unfortunate, 

^^      Greedy  of  cash, 
Rashly  importunate, 
Gone  all  to  smash. 

Think  of  him  tenderly 
All  ye  bereft. 
With  purses  so  slenderly 
Filled  since  he  left. 

Alas  for  rascality, — 
From  that  locality 
Quick  must  he  run. 
O,  it  was  pitiful. 
In  a  whole  city  full, 
All  he  must  shun. 
63 


0- 


$4  ^^^  Absconding  Cashier. 


Forced  was  he  to  fly 

With  his  treasures  untold, — 

And  ne*er  a  good-bye 

To  shorn  lambs  in  his  fold. 

Speeding  on  to  the  northward 
By  day  and  by  night, 
He  crossed  the  big  bridge 
And  there  ended  his  flight. 

Eating  his  breakfast  there — 
Tasting  so  clammily, — 
All  that  is  left  of  him  here, 
Is  his  family. 

W'  One  more  unfortunate, 
Greedy  of  cash. 
Rashly  importunate, 
Cutting  a  dash. 


FLOTSAM. 

'*  tD  EEF  in  the  sails !  *'  the  captain  roars, 

^     Then  oil  upon  the  water  pours ; 
But  wilder,  fiercer  grows  the  storm — 
The  crew  turn  white  in  dread  alarm. 
The  salt  sea  washes  o'er  the  deck — 
The  staunch  proud  ship  is  doomed  to  wreck. 


"  More  oil !  more  oil!  *'  the  captain  cries, 

And  anxious  scans  the  sullen  skies. 

"  The  oil  *s  all  out,  we  Ve  no  more  hope — 

There  's  nothing  left  but !  ** 

"  We  Ve  saved  !  we  Ve  saved  !  "  exclaimed  the 
mate, 

"  This  cargo  light  decides  our  fate. 

65 


66  Flotsam. 


**  The  ship  may  sink  with  all  its  boats, 

But  the ,  it  floats,  it  floats ! 

We  '11  straightway  build  of  it  a  raft " 

At  this  the  crew  and  captain  laughed, 
But  instantly  the  angry  waves 
Swept  scoffers  all  to  watery  graves. 

The  wise  mate  seized  a  trusty  rope 
And  closely  bound  the  cakes  of ; 


Then  launched  them  on  the  stormy  sea 
And  sprang  aboard,  right  merrily. 
Thus  he  was  washed  quite  clean  ashore, 
As  never  man  was  washed  before. 

5 


GRATITUDE. 

TO   S.  I.  J. 

T^O  please  my  lord,  I  often  try 
*       To  make  a  sapid,  juicy  pie  ; 
But  all  my  efforts  are  in  vain, — 
He  frowns  upon  them  with  disdain. 

Though  hard  I  strive  to  please  his  palate 
He  cries  to  Bridget,  **  Bring  the  mallet, — 
No  knife  and  fork  can  ever  make 
Upon  this  pie  a  single  break/' 

Then  straightway  to  my  den  I  go 
And  pen  my  grief  in  rhythmic  woe ; 
And,  thinking  thus  to  move  his  pity, 
I  give  to  him  the  mournful  ditty. 
67 


6S  Gratitude, 


^'  Art  thou  gone  mad  ?  '*  aloud  he  cries ; 
'*  I  want  not  poetry y  but  pies  !  '' 
But  since  this  morn  all  things  are  changed, 
No  more  we  two  shall  be  estranged. 
My  heart  islight,  my  eyes  are  dry, — 
I  know  where  I  can  buy  good  pie. 

My  grateful  heart,  full  to  the  brim. 
Goes  out  in  thankfulness  to  him 
Who  sent  to  me,  with  kindly  thought, 
The  luscious  pie  his  baker  brought. 


"  RATTLED." 

*nn  WAS  in  the  glorious  summer  time 
'^        Two  sportsmen,  gay  and  witty, 

Unto  our  royal  Vineyard  came 
From  out  the  broiling  city. 

All  wild  and  eager  for  the  chase, 
Ne'er  cared  for  love  nor  beauty, 

But,  with  a  field  glass  in  its  case. 
They  sallied  out  quite  sporty. 

The  wily  woodchuck  was  the  game 

These  huntsmen  brave  affected. 

So,  slyly  to  his  haunts  they  came, 

Lest  they  might  be  detected. 
69 


70  ''Rattledr 


A  meadow  wide,  with  carpet  green, 
By  rocks  and  trees  surrounded, 

Was  where  the  woodchucks  most  were  seen- 
For  there  they  most  abounded. 


These  town  sports  on  a  hillock  sat 

And  focussed  well  their  glasses. 
Unconscious  of  a  woodchuck  that 

Watched  them  among  the  grasses. 

T  is  true,  they  long  time  scanned  what  seemed 

A  hole  all  black  and  yawning, 
But  never  for  an  instant  dreamed 

It  was  the  woodchuck  sunning, 


Till  suddenly  he  whisked  his  tail 
And  for  the  woods  departed — 

They  seized  their  guns  and  on  his  trail 
In  mad  pursuit  they  started. 


''Rattledr  71 


They  followed  fast,  they  followed  far, 

Their  victim  swift  retreating, 
But  naught  less  than  a  trolley  car 

Could  cope  with  his  wild  fleeting. 

Not  thus  again  might  it  be  said 

Their  vision  was  deceptive — 
To  each  strange  spot  a  charge  of  lead 

Should  prove  their  aim  effective. 

Then  turning  quite  disgruntled  back 

To  the  far  hillock  slowly, 
They  spied  an  object — small  and  black — 

Which  lay  there  still  and  lowly. 

"  By  Jove !     At  last  we  Ve  got  one  fair — 

Now  blaze  away  like  thunder!  " 
Bang !     Bang !     ''  Great  Scott,  we  Ve  hit  him 
square — 

What  the  deuce  was  that,  I  wonder !  *' 


72  '' Rattled r 


There  came  a  crash  of  breaking  glass 
With  splinters  thick,  fast  flying, 

And  gleaming  there  a  shattered  mass 
Where  they  *d  left  their  field  glass  lying. 

They  spake  no  word,  but  wiped  their  brows 
And  sat  down  where  the  shade  is — 

Next  day,  as  everybody  knows, 
They  picnicked  with  the  ladies  ! 


Vineyard  Lodge, 

Adirondacks. 


'*  REGRETS." 

TO    MADELEINE. 

TN  "  Roosevelt  '*  lies  my  only  maid 

Exceeding  ill  with  quinsy — 
My  lord,  in  faultless  garb  arrayed, 
A  smile  from  me  ne*er  wins  he. 

Forced  am  I  in  the  cuisine 

With  pots  and  pans  to  wrestle  ; — 

No  more  in  salon  reign  I  queen 
Nor  on  soft  fauteuils  nestle. 

And,  while  I  'm  grinding  in  the  mill 
The  fragrant  bean  of  Java, 

My  temper  *s  glowing  like  a  still 
Of  seething,  molten  lava. 
73 


74  ''Regretsr 

For — though  I  *m  disciplined  to  toil 

And  oft  am  disappointed, 
And  much  consume  the  midnight  oil- 

I  *m  not  of  the  anointed. 

Alas,  my  dear,  this  direful  strait 
Precludes  my  going  to  you, — 

Pray  Heaven  that  ne'er  malicious  fate 
May  such  a  mixture  brew  you. 


HALF  SEAS  OVER. 

ly  yi  AY  day  at  morn  we  sailed  away 
*  "  *     By  the  Anchor  Line,  adown  the  bay. 
Our  great  Republic  we  left  behind 
With  its  banners  flying  in  the  wind, 
For  just  one  hundred  years  had  passed 
Since  our  Nation's  die  was  firmly  cast. 


Weak  patriots  then  we  all  must  be, 
Just  at  this  time  to  go  to  sea. 
What  is  the  charm  that  draws  us  so, 
Across  the  brine  to  our  ancient  foe  ? 
*T  was  a  dreadful  quarrel,  fierce  and  wild, 
But  *t  was  well  for  the  mother  and  best  for  the 
child. 

75 


76  Half  Seas  Over. 


A  hundred  years  of  peace  and  war 
Have  left  us  without  wound  or  scar, 
And  across  three  thousand  briny  miles 
Old  England  beckons  us  and  smiles. 
She  sends  us  goodly  ships  and  strong, 
Which  bear  us  over  in  many  a  throng. 

Brave  Scotland,  too,  throws  out  her  line, 

And  baits  her  hook  so  wondrous  fine 

That  no  man  can  remain  at  home 

When  once  he  views  the  City  of  Rome. 

So  here  *s  good  luck  to  her  captain  and  crew, 

A  safe  quiet  trip  to  her  voyageurs  too ! 

Concert,  City  of  Rome,  1889. 


A  FOOTBALL  EPISODE. 


OHE  was  tripping  up  the  Avenue, 
^^     This  maiden  brave  and  fair ; 
And  he  was  pacing  down  it,  too, 
Quite  gay  and  debonair. 


The  orange  and  black  adorned  her  breast,- 
He  wore  the  Yale's  dark  blue ; 

The  sun  was  sinking  low  to  rest, 

And  down  bowled  the  football  crew. 


The  blue,  triumphant,  proudly  waved, — 
The  orange  and  black  drooped  low ; 

The  maiden  paused — the  crowd  she  braved 
With  her  gorgeous  Princeton  bow. 
77 


78  A  Football  Episode. 


"You  're  beaten,  take  it  off !  '*  he  cried, 

As  he  met  her,  face  to  face. 
**  Never  !  good  sir,  pray  step  aside, — 

T  were  best  you  kept  your  pace.'* 

She  passed  him  by  with  scornful  mien, 
He  turned  and  followed  on, — 

The  Yale's  dark  blue  had  lost  its  sheen, 
The  orange  and  black  had  won. 


IN  POTENTIAL  MOOD. 

OHE  held  the  tiller,  he  rowed  the  boat, — 
^^     While  the  whippoorwill  trilled  his  plain- 
tive note ; 
And  the  purple  shadows,  soft  and  dim, 
Spread  a  royal  mantle  over  them. 

The  twilight  waned, — and  lake  and  sky 
Met  close  in  darksome  mystery ; 
While  whispering  pines  on  the  dusky  shore 
Told  weird  tales  ne*er  heard  before. 

O,  haste  thee,  boatman,  with  thine  oar ! 
Steer,  gentle  coxswain,  for  the  shore  ! 
O,  summer  night, — sweet,  subtle,  wild, — 
Alas !  the  hearts  thou  hast  beguiled. 


79 


IN  CAMP  AT  RAQUETTE  LAKE. 


O 


WHO  would  dwell 
In  a  big  hotel, 
Amid  the  noise  and  clatter  ; 
Or  promenade 
Piazzas  broad, 
And  listen  to  the  chatter  ? 


Not  you  nor  I, — 

We  quick  would  fly 

Unto  the  woods  and  waters ; 

And  build  a  camp, 

Be  it  dry  or  damp, 

Nor  seek  for  finer  quarters. 
80 


In  Ca77ip  at  Raquette  Lake,  8i 


We  '11  not  be  rude 

In  our  solitude, 
Though  trail  of  beast  doth  track  it,- 

But  to  our  friends 

Will  make  amends, 
And  bid  them  to  the  Raquette. 


VACATION. 

A  WAY,  away  from  the  bustle  and  din, 
^*^     Away  from  the  city's  soil  and  sin, 
Away  from  the  carking  cares  of  life, 
Away  from  humanity's  toil  and  strife ; 

Up,  up  to  the  mountains,  down  to  the  sea. 
On  to  the  wilderness  fresh  and  free. 
With  rifle  and  bag,  with  rod  and  with  reel, 
Over  rocks  and  through  thickets  silently  steal. 

Through  midsummer  days  and  cool  dewy  nights. 
Ah,  tarry  with  nature  and  taste  her  delights ; 
Then,  in  the  sere  autumn,  hardened  and  brown, 
Return  well  equipped  for  your  labors  in  town. 


82 


'OUR  CLUB." 


BY  ONE  OF  US. 


A    BAND  of  bright  women  are  accustomed 
-^"^      to  meet 

In  a  modest  house,  on  a  quiet  street, 
To  read  one  day  in  every  week 
Original  English,  or — translated  Greek. 
The  hostess,  a  matron  of  practical  life, — 
A  fond  weak  mother  and  fair  housewife, — 
Still,  feels  her  life  is  not  quite  full. 
So  at  the  Muses  takes  a  pull. 
Each  member  of  this  brilliant  band 
On  her  own  convictions  takes  her  stand, 
And  be  the  topic  what  it  may. 
Every  individual  has  her  say. 

83 


84  "  Our  Clubr 


We  Ve  liberal  in  sects  and  creeds, — 
Each  follows  the  one  her  soul  most  needs. 
We   've    read     every    author     from     here    to 

Kamchatka, — 
Emerson,  Tolstoi,  and  Madame  Blavatsky. 
From  all  we  have  drained  their  wondrous  lore ; 
To  us,  they  *re  squeezed  lemons,  and  nothing 

more. 
Keppler  and  Newton  are  weak  silly  boys, 
Their  works  in  our  hands  have  become  idle 

toys. 
Old  Plato  is  torn  to  Lilliputian  shreds, 
And  Socratic  philosophy  no  more  light  sheds. 
Zoroaster,  Buddha,  and  old  Mahomet 
Are  thin  and  light  as  the  tail  of  a  comet. 
We  scale  Parnassus  with  perfect  ease, 
And  descend  to  *'  Inferno  "  when  e'er  we  please. 
We  climb  the  embankments  of  the  stars, 
And  stare  out  of  countenance  blushing  Mars. 
Thus,  having  gained  all  heights  and  depths, 
O,  whither  now  betake  our  steps  ? 


''Our  Club:*  85 


This  problem  great  our  souls  perplexed,- 
What  can  we  modern  Eves  do  next? 


And  thus  it  chanced,  one  gloomy  day 

We  met  together,  quite  blase, 

An  uncanny  silence  brooded  o'er  all, — 

A  reign  of  vacuity  held  us  in  thrall ; 

Then  one,  divinely  illumined,  spoke, 

And  these  electric  words  the  dullness  broke  : — 

**  Say,  girls,  do  you  know  it  is  opening  day, — 

Let  us  go  see  the  fashions,  what  do  you  say  ?  ** 

A  joyous  thrill  shot  through  each  breast. 
And  the  vexed  question  was  laid  to  rest. 
We  went, — and  O,  such  lovely  things  ! 
From  Paris  hats  to  diamond  rings. 
We  returned, — alas,  financial  wrecks, 
But  lovely  woman  is  so  complex 


QUATRAINS. 

T^HE  great  uncertainty  of  things 
*       Adds  richly  to  their  flavor — 
But  to  the  mortal  often  brings 
Confusion  with  its  savor. 


Who  dares  to  say  that  *'  Love  is  blind  '*  ?- 

None  sees  so  keenly  as  he ; 
Given  a  shadow,  he  will  find 

The  substance,  the  motive,  the  key. 


86 


TO  RUTH. 


FN  AINTY,  winsome  little  niece,- 
^^     Ne*er  a  single  bit  of  peace 
To  be  had  when  you  're  about — 
How  you  put  all  things  to  rout. 


Laughing,  chattering  in  a  tongue 
Ne'er  by  mortal  said  or  sung, 
And  each  funny  word  you  speak 
Might  as  well  be  ancient  Greek. 


But  your  clear  eyes  tell  the  truth, 
And  your  pantomime,  sweet  Ruth, 
Can't  be  beaten  on  the  stage 

By  man  or  maid  of  any  age. 

87 


88  To  Ruth. 


Creeping,  toddling,  scattering  toys 
Everywhere,  with  fun  and  noise, 
You  fill  the  house  and  rule  us  all, 
Although  you  are  so  very  small. 


MY  FRIEND. 

TO   KATHERINE  J N. 

T  T  AST  seen  my  friend  with  her  soft  waving 
^      hair, 

With  the  look  on  her  face  that  angels  wear, 
With  her  willowy  form  of  perfect  grace  ?  — 
Where  e'er  she  moves  some  good  you  trace. 

Hast  thou  heard  her  voice  with  its  low  sad  tone, 
Or  rich  with  a  laughter  all  its  own  ? 
Hast  thou  heard  her  whispered  words  of  cheer 
To  one  whose  life  is  cold  and  drear  ? 

Hast  thou  seen  her  sweet  eyes  fill  with  tears, 

At  saddening  tales  she  oft-times  hears? 

89 


go  My  Friend, 


Or  the  mobile  mouth  and  quivering  chin 
Which  silently  voice  the  grief  within  ? 

Hast  thou  seen  her  hand  outstretched  to  aid 
A  needy  man,  or  sorrowing  maid  ? 
Hast  thou  felt  its  sympathetic  clasp 
When  thou  wert  in  misfortune's  grasp  ? 

*'No?''     Then,  wouldst  thou  see  this  friend  of 

mine, 
So  sweetly  human,  yet  half  divine, — 
Look  close  within  thy  mirror,  dear, 
And  view  the  form  reflected  there. 


LOVERS  STRATEGY. 

T    IKE  a  breath  of  summer  o'er  roses  blown, 
'^^     Love  comes  with  a  thrill  to  claim  his  own ; 
Runs  riot  in  her  flowing  hair, 
Kisses  her  lips  and  brow  so  fair — 
No  rattling  of  chains  discloses  the  truth, 
That  a  captive  is  she  of  the  mischievous  youth. 


91 


SLUMBER  SONG. 

(A  Maiden,  a  Hammock,  a  Garden  of  Poppies.) 

\/ E  gentle  zephyrs,  softly  sigh 
■■■       And  sway  her  fairy  form  ; 
Bright  above  is  the  azure  sky 
And  far  away  the  storm. 

Waft  o*er  her  Hds,  ye  drowsy  god, 
The  dust  of  restful  sleep, 

And  all  ye  poppies,  lightly  nod — 
Soothe  her  to  slumber  deep. 

Wild  spirit  of  dreams,  whisper  low 

How  I  have  loved  her  long, 

Nor  ventured  e'er  to  tell  her  so 

Save  in  my  voiceless  song. 
92 


Slumber  Song,  93 


Rest,  maiden  beloved,  O  rest, 

And  sweet  be  thy  repose ; 
The  Lethe  blooms*  unconscious  guest — 

My  lips  in  silence  froze. 


AFFINITY. 

T^HEY  did  but  meet,— 
-■'       She  passed  him  by 
With  scarce  a  look  ; 
But  a  soft  sigh 
Replied  to  his 
Obeisance  low, 
And  life  took  on 
A  heavenly  glow. 


94 


ETRETAT. 

T^WO  lofty  cliffs  above  the  tide 
-■'       A  quaint  old  town  between  them  hide  ; 
Narrow  streets  and  winding  ways, 
Houses  toned  to  tender  grays, 
Bright-hued  gardens,  rose-climbed  walls, 
And  over  all  the  sunlight  falls. 

Normandy,  France. 


95 


UNSOLVED. 

^A  WHENCE  come  we?     Whither  go  ? 

^  ^       We    search    the    heights,    the    depths 

below. 

With  zeal  we  scan  the  learnfed  pages 

Of  Darwin,  and  a  host  of  sages. 

It  seemeth  quite  too  wide  a  chasm 

Back  from  man  to  protoplasm. 

Anon,  we  read  of  saints  and  sinners, — 

Some  fasted,  and  some  ate  good  dinners ; 

But  when  they  came  to  lay  life  down — 

Who  can  tell  if  either  won  a  crown  ? 

And  thus  in  doubt  we  still  are  left, 

Of  faith  and  reason  near  bereft. 

No  saint  nor  sage  the  problem  solves. 

But  in  denser  maze  the  truth  involves. 

96 


Unsolved,  97 


Then  why  the  Alpha  and  Omega  seek, 

Since  Christian,  Jew,  and  pagan  Greek 

Have  sought,  and  ever  sought  in  vain, 

Their  mighty  secrets  to  obtain  ? 

The  past  is  dead, — the  future  yet  unborn. 

In  the  living  present  let  us  learn 

A  creed  for  the  Eternal  Now — 

A  doctrine  that  shall  teach  us  how 

To  make  of  every  good  the  most, 

To  see  in  evil  but  a  ghost. 

A  gospel  of  love,  for  youth  and  age. 

Shining  with  truth  on  every  page. 

Which  heals  the  body,  cheers  the  soul, 

And  makes  of  man  a  perfect  whole. 


All  this  was  taught  long  years  ago 

By  One  who  came  on  earth  to  show 

That  sickness  and  sorrow  need  not  endure. 

If  hearts  were  true  and  lives  were  pure. 
7 


TO  THE  NATIONAL  SOCIETY  OF  NEW 
ENGLAND  WOMEN. 


A  WAKE  !  O  Muse,  and  tune  thy  lyre 
^^^     To  notes  of  patriotic  fire ; 
That  each  responsive,  vibrant  string 
Shall  with  New  England*s  glory  ring. 


I  greet  ye,  daughters  of  a  race 
Where  brain  and  muscle  kept  apace. 
Stern  were  the  lives  our  fathers  led, 
By  labor  and  by  hardships  bred. 

But,  healthful  was  that  honest  toil, 

Grand  were  the  products  of  the  soil ; 

And  everywhere  New  England  birth 

Is  synonym  for  sturdy  worth. 
98 


National  Society  of  New  England  Women,     99 


Giants  of  intellect  boast  we, — 
Fruits  from  our  ancestral  tree, 
Whose  branches  spreading  o'er  the  land 
For  freedom  and  for  justice  stand.  , 


Divines,  philosophers,  and  seers, 

Thoughtful  workers,  pioneers 

In  all  great  schemes  for  human  weal 

Are  plain  stamped  with  New  England's  seal. 


But  not  alone  to  man  is  due 
The  glory  of  this  England  new. 
No  minor  part  need  woman  claim. 
No  cause  to  blush  for  sex  or  name. 


Hath  thought,  ye  daughters,  o'er  the  list 
Of  names  by  fame  and  honor  kissed  ? 
Glorious  women,  brave  and  free, 
Born  of  our  favored  ancestry  ? 


loo     National  Society  of  New  England  Women, 


Remember  ye  brave  Lucy  Stone? 
Wondrous  the  seed  that  she  hath  sown. 
Her  work,  colossal,  in  woman^s  field, 
And  rich  and  full  the  harvest  yield. 


But  rough  and  thorny  was  the  soil, — 

Tradition's  rocks  near  wrecked  her  toil. 

She  sought  the  legislative  hall : 

**  What ! ''  cried  aloud  those  Solons  all, 

"  A  woman  in  our  halls  of  state  ? — 

She  *s  crazed — she  needs  a  jacket  straight  ;- 

A  dangerous  precedent  't  would  be 

To  yield  her  sex  such  dignity  !  ** 


Then  one  uprose,  calm,  unperturbed : 

"  Unduly,  my  colleagues,  are  you  disturbed  ; 

Fear  not.  a  precedent  to  make 

Or  vain  tradition  thus  to  break. 

The  world  is  moving  on  apace, — 

Not  sex,  but  Justice  wins  the  race ; 


National  Society  of  New  England  Women.     loi 


If  you  would  not  be  left  behind 

Let  this  brave  woman  speak  her  mind." 

Thus,  with  firm  persuasive  note 

He  won  for  Lucy  Stone  the  vote. 

And,  to  the  ''  House,*' ^  where  on  the  floor 

No  womankind  e*er  spoke  before. 

Presented  her  to  plead  her  cause 

To  those  wise  makers  of  the  laws. 

A  valiant  man  was  Harry  Gray, 
Who  dared  in  that  benighted  day 
Uphold  the  woman's  cause,  and  rate 
Her  equal  to  her  lordly  mate. 
No  sons  left  he  to  bear  his  name. 
But  daughters,  all  unknown  to  fame ; 
And  one  to-day  this  tribute  pays 
Of  recognition  and  of  praise. 

Now  count  we  her  whose  works  and  ways 
Are  crowned  with  immortal  bays. 
*  Vermont  Legislature. 


I02     National  Society  of  New  England  Women, 


Whose  daring  words,  white,  seething  hot, 
Dropped  scorching  on  the  accursed  blot 
Which  stained  our  honor,  stamped  a  He 
On  this  boasted  land  of  liberty. 
Peace  !    Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  to  thee, — 
Thy  pen  pierced  deep  the  heart  of  slavery. 

And  thou,  revered  Lucretia  Mott, 
Thy  teachings  lightened  many  a  spot 
In  darkened  lives,  and  thou  wast  friend 
To  black  and  white  until  life's  end. 
O,  ne'er  in  philanthropic  fields 
Did  laborer  garner  fairer  yields. 


In  letters  we  may  proudly  count 
Names  high  writ  on  Parnassus  Mount,- 
So  manifold,  nor  space,  nor  time 
Permit  inscription  in  our  rhyme. 
But  Margaret  Fuller's  genius  great, 
Together  with  her  tragic  fate, 


National  Society  of  New  England  Women.     103 


Deep  stir  such  pride  and  sympathy 
We  would  not  her  fair  name  pass  by. 

Within  cold  Science's  sacred  fane 
A  lofty  seat  our  sisters  claim. 
But  one  illustrious  name  we  quote; — 
T  is  Maria  Mitchell,  of  learned  note, 
Who  in  the  clear  and  solemn  nights 
Invaded  the  celestial  heights 
And  stole  the  secrets  of  the  stars 
Like  the  sagest  of  astronomers, 
And  deemed  it  honor  to  reveal 
Their  mysteries  for  her  pupils'  weal. 


In  Art,  read  Harriet  Hosmer's  name 
On  Carrara  blocks  of  enduring  fame ; 
And  Charlotte  Cushman,  tragic,  grand 
Histrionic  giant  of  our  land. 
An  hundred  more  might  we  recall, 
Women  of  New  England  all, 


104    National  Society  of  New  England  Women. 


^ 


Whose  records,  though  of  lighter  gauge, 
Still  glorify  our  heritage. 


Nor  need  we  longer  seek  behind, 
But  *mid  contemporaries  find 
Their  powers,  virtues,  intellect 
Through  generations  held  intact,- 
That  fine  ambition,  glowing  free, 
Not  simply  to  possess,  but  be. 


T  is  true  we  live  in  merrier  age, — 
In  light  amusements  oft  engage ; 
No  witches  burn  we  at  the  stake, 
But  free  with  them  our  joys  partake. 
And  though  in  cities  gay  we  dwell 
And  sometimes  dress  exceeding  well, 
Methinks  as  much  of  good  there  be 
As  in  homelier  garb  and  solemnity. 
And,  though  convention  oft  doth  chill, 
The  patriot  fires  are  burning  still. 


National  Society  of  New  England  Women,     105 


T  was  a  noble  thought, — patriotic,  grand, — 
Thus  to  unite  in  National  band 
The  women  of  New  England  birth 
Scattered  broadcast  o*er  the  earth. 
May  history *s  pages  glow  and  gleam 
With  its  records,  fair  as  Utopian  dream, 
And  to  her,  its  gracious  Founder,  be 
All  honor,  praise,  and  loyalty. 


V 


A  VISION. 

OAD  and  uncertain,  in  twilight  draped 

^^     Like  a  garment  gray,  with  folds  unshaped, 

I  wandered  left,  then  wavered  right — 

Closer  the  folds  and  lesser  the  light. 

With  hands  outstretched,  slow  groping  before, 

I  touched  a  key  in  an  ancient  door. 

Quick  thrilled  my  being  with  mortal  shock 

As  with  force  new  born  I  turned  the  lock, 

And  grim  and  hoarse  with  protest  strong 

The  ponderous  portal  backward  swung. 

I  paused  in  awe  on  the  threshold  worn — 

What  mysteries  grave  beyond  its  bourne? 

I  dared  not  enter  the  gruesome  void 

But  quaked  with  a  terror  unalloyed. 

When  an  eerie  light  the  darkness  broke 

And  a  solemn  voice  this  welcome  spoke : 
io6 


A  Vision.  107 


**  O  child  of  man,  wast  not  content 
With  law  promulged  and  document 
Which  potentate  and  priest  of  yore 
Provided  thee  in  ample  store  ? 
Must  thou  thyself  investigate 
The  mysteries  of  church  and  state? 
Need*st  thou  to  reason  ever  hold, 
And  shun  ecclesiastic  fold 
Because  thy  quickening  intellect 
Their  cumbrous  tenets  doth  reject? 
Behold,  I  do  not  censure  thee, 
Thou  art  following  thy  destiny  ; 
Free  enter  by  my  favoring  grace 
This  ancient  storehouse  of  thy  race, 
And  if  perchance  thou  find'st  the  truth 
Thou  *st  lost  in  thy  insensate  youth 
Hold  fast,  till  Time  no  more  shall  be 
And  fear  not  all  Eternity/* 

With  courage  born  of  words  so  fair 
I  paused  no  more,  but  ent'ring  there 


io8  A  Vision. 


I  found  me  in  a  chamber  vast 
Whose  shelved  walls  were  crowded  fast 
With  musty  tomes  of  churchly  lore  ; 
And  priestly  robes  all  jeweled  o'er 
Gleamed  iridescent  in  the  gloom 
Of  the  mysterious  dim-lit  room. 
And  virgins  blest,  in  satin's  sheen, 
With  pagan  gods  of  classic  mien — 
Symbolic  of  old  Greece  and  Rome, 
Were  crowded  close  beneath  the  dome. 
Near,  Hindu  idols,  grim,  grotesque, 
'Round  Gautama  and  Brahma  pressed. 
Strange  Druid  altars  stained  with  blood 
For  savage  Britons*  cult  there  stood, 
And  Isis  and  Osiris  great 
Sate  gloomily  enthroned  in  state. 
While  superstitions  of  every  kind 
Flitted  like  bats  in  the  twilight  blind. 

All  this  I  viewed  in  mood  depressed — 
Not  here  the  balm  for  souls  distressed. 


A  Vision,  109 

Passing  on  through  the  shadows  afar 
I  found  lying  low  a  broken  jar, 
And  thence  arising  a  misty  cloud 
Like  incense  o*er  a  worshiping  crowd. 
Though  faint  and  light  in  its  lowly  bed 
It  denser  grew  as  it  upward  sped, 
And  mingling  thus  with  the  ghostly  gloom 
Strange  darkness  fell  in  the  dismal  room. 

0*er  the  shattered  vase  I  bowed  my  head 
And  on  a  fragment  this  message  read : 

"  Behold,  I  am  the  dust  of  Doubt. 
Long,  long  for  freedom  have  I  fought 
Close  prisoned  here  by  Holy  See, 
My  greatest,  cruel  enemy. 
If  thou  for  truth  hast  ever  sought 
Or  pined  for  freedom  in  thy  thought, 
Release  me  from  this  monstrous  thrall 
And  with  me  thou  shalt  compass  all. 


no  A  Vision, 


For  death  am  I  to  false  belief, 
Inquiry  is  my  staunchest  chief 
And  oft  in  council  he  suggests 
Strange  by-paths  in  his  mighty  quests." 


Here  closed  the  message,  but  to  me 
It  lightened  much  of  mystery, 
Revealing  why  I  oft  had  strayed 
Beyond  the  courts  of  Wisdom  staid. 
For  doubting,  doubting  all  things  fair, 
In  darkness  I  had  wandered  there. 
But  who  had  compassed  his  release, 
This  arch  destroyer  of  my  peace  ? 
Naught  but  a  golden  sceptre  lay 
By  shattered  jar  to  mark  the  fray. 
But  he  who  thus  had  used  his  power 
To  man  restored  a  fateful  dower. 

Faint  and  oppressed  I  turned  to  go, 
Doubt  e'er  had  seemed  my  direst  foe— 


A  Vision.  in 

Better  far  black  veilM  night 
Than  this  confused  uncertain  light. 
I  hastened  back  to  whence  I  came — 
The  massive  door  had  closed  again. 
Then  spake  in  accents  big  with  cheer 
A  voice  Hke  music  in  mine  ear : 


**  O  child  of  Doubt,  thy  steps  retrace — 
Rash  wert  thou  to  invade  this  place, 
But  since  thou  hast,  be  it  not  vain, 
Press  on,  and  thou  the  light  shalt  gain." 

Then  the  angel  of  Hope  came  winging  down 
And  a  subtle  force  that  was  not  mine  own 
Hurried  me  on  through  the  mist  and  gloom 
Till  I  traversed  all  the  specter-filled  room. 

Then  I  entered  a  grand  and  dom^d  hall 
And   the   sunlight  shone   through  its    crystal 
wall. 


112  A  Vision, 

While  in  the  fair  distance  a  golden  door 
Impelled  me  onward  to  further  explore. 

In  shining  letters  I  read  above  : 

**  This  guards  the  way  to  Truth  and  Love ; 

No  doubt  nor  dogma  enter  here, 

Who  holds  the  key  has  naught  to  fear.*' 

Sadly  I  gazed  at  the  keyless  lock — 
Futile  must  be  my  summoning  knock. 
Then  the  voice  again  in  dulcet  tone  : 
'*  Behold,  thou  comest  unto  thine  own, 
For  *t  is  purpose  high,  love  strong  and  pure. 
That  open  for  mortals  this  wondrous  door. 
Know  then,  thou  holdest  the  golden  key 
Which  to  this  kingdom  maketh  free.*' 

With  tremulous  joy  I  opened  the  door 
And  reverent  step  trod  the  spotless  floor. 
Sudden  I  thrilled  with  memories  rare 
Of  earlier  days  and  mornings  fair 


A  Vision. 


113 


When  erst  in  that  hallowed  place  I  stood 
Ere  doubt  has  poisoned  all  my  good. 

Around  I  looked  in  glad  amaze — 

All  was  familiar  to  my  gaze, 

And  there  the  Master  with  face  divine 

Stood  reaching  forth  His  hand  to  mine, 

Saying,  ''  Welcome  back  from  doubt  and  strife, 

I  am  the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life.** 


AD  FINEM. 


T   TPON  a  bleak  and  barren  moor 

^^     She  dwelt — this  woman  old  and  poor. 

Half  starved,  and  always  scantly  clad, 

With  naught  on  earth  to  make  her  glad. 

Rebellious  oft,  yet  knowing  not 

How  to  improve  her  dreary  lot. 


But,  as  her  life  drew  near  its  end, 

A  longing  came  for  some  amend. 

A  fierce  desire  possessed  her  soul 

To  reach,  ere  death,  a  certain  goal. 

Then  from  her  cabin  mean  and  bare 

She  stole  forth  in  the  chill  dark  air. 
114 


Ad  Finem. 


"5 


A  night  and  day  she  hobbled  on, 
Recked  not  of  darkness  nor  of  sun. 
A  gleam  within  her  sunken  eyes, 
Like  lightning  from  the  shrouded  skies, 
Flashed  wild,  as  her  uncertain  pace 
Swift  on  her  course  she  sought  to  trace. 


At  length,  the  sun,  all  glowing  red, 
Sank  to  its  rest  in  ocean's  bed  ; 
Its  lurid  gleams  her  keen  glance  caught — 
This  was  the  goal  the  wanderer  sought. 
"  The  sea !  the  sea !  '*  she  shrieked  aloud, 
"  These  tossing  waves  shall  be  my  shroud  ; 

"  No  more,  no  more  to  starve  and  freeze, 
But  just  to  rock  on  the  billowy  seas/* 
She  cast  her  down  on  the  sandy  shore. 
And  listened  with  glee  to  the  ocean's  roar. 
Then  o'er  its  limitless  expanse 
She  swept  her  wild,  ecstatic  glance. 


ii6  Ad  Finem, 


''  O  God  !  *'  she  cried,  "  the  way  was  rough, 

But  't  is  so  good  to  see  enough 

Of  anything  before  I  go 

From  this  drear  world  of  want  and  woe/* 

The  voice  ceased  ;  low  drooped  the  head  ; 

The  tide  crept  up,  and  claimed — its  dead. 


»  ^^OU  I 


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